Batman: Raiders of the Tree of Life
by AshenAngel2
Summary: Dick Grayson has never had a hard time finding trouble, but now he gets neck deep in cut-throat danger. Bruce Wayne (Batman) goes missing on a mission to find the Legendary Garden of Eden and the Tree of Life. Inspired by George Lucas's Indiana Jones, Dick travels to Rome to commence a perilous race to find his surrogate father and the Tree of Life before their deadly advisories.
1. Chapter 1- One Night on the Rooftop

Batman: Raiders of the Tree of Life

Chapter 1: One Night on the Rooftop

Billionaire Bruce Wayne casually mingled with his guests atop the roof if the famous Wayne Enterprises building. The heated summer air had cooled off for the night leaving a pleasantly cool breeze to blow over the gathering. The sky above Gotham City was a cloudless black freckled with shining stars. The rooftop itself was well lit and decorated with colorful Chinese lanterns. Extravagant tables of food had been set out and the party goers moved from one to the next chatting about things that honestly did interest Bruce in the slightest. To him, these parties were a bore.

He sighed on the inside. If his oldest son Dick Grayson were only here, this party might actually be entertaining. Dick had a way of making the most boring party into something people wanted to talk about later. When he was little, Dick had behaved himself; but as he got older, all bets were off. From the stunt with the Roman candles in Bruce's birthday cake at the office to the piñata shaped like Batman, Dick had a talent for making things interesting. Bruce clearly remembered Dick and Wally West (aka. Kid Flash) starting a guerrilla warfare battle shooting ice-cubes at each other for the entirety of the Wayne Foundation Christmas party four years ago. At the time, Bruce had been annoyed. But now, he would do anything for a little of Dick's shenanigans.

At least Tim Drake was there. Although not as entertaining at a party as Dick, Tim could carry on an intelligent conversation about anything. The boy had a sharp wit and a little of Alfred's dry British humor. It made him a wonderful companion in any circumstance. Tired of standing alone or talking about business, Bruce began to make his way over to Tim. He turned when he felt a hand on his arm. Looking back, he saw Barron Burkhalter.

"Mr. Wayne, may I have a word with you in private?" inquired the old Barron.

"Certainly," Bruce answered, "shall we step into my office?" Bruce guided the Barron down the stairs to a penthouse office on the eighty-first floor. "What can I do for you?" he asked slipping behind his desk.

The Barron seated himself across from Bruce and regarded him for a moment before answering. "Have you ever heard of the Garden of Eden and the Tree of Life?"

"Sure," said Bruce, "in the Bible, the Tree of Life grants eternal life while the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil brings death. Its' a Sunday school story. I have to tell you though, if you're here to save my soul, the door is that way. I don't believe in that stuff."

"But what if it's real and we can find it?" asked the Barron speculatively. "Think about it; we live in a world where people like Doctor Fate, Zatanna, and even the Flash can open portholes to other universes, other realities, and alternate dimensions. Superman and Supergirl came from a planet beyond our galaxy. The lost city of Atlantis hides beneath the waves, but it's real and ruled by a member of the Justice League. If all of this can be real, why not the Garden of Eden? It may yet exist in another dimension."

"Very interesting, but why are you bringing this up?" asked Bruce.

"I want you to help me find the legendary Garden of Eden and the Tree of Life. To an old dying man, this means the world."

Bruce smiled politely and skeptically. "What makes you think I can help you with that? You already have the money necessary to fund such an expedition if you so choose."

"I need the best detective in the world. I want you to help me because I know who you are and what you are. Batman. You're the perfect person for the job."

Bruce felt his heart skip a beat, but time and training allowed him to keep his face neutral. He didn't so much as bat an eyelash. "What makes you think I'm Batman?" He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of him like a man who held all the aces.

"I spent years watching you, studying you, setting up missions for you. How could I not know who you are? I have dedicated my life to finding the Tree of Life and Batman fit into my plan perfectly." The Barron pushed a little leather-bound notebook towards Bruce. "This has everything you need to start looking."

"Even if I was Batman, what makes you think I would help you?"

The Barron gave Bruce a wicked smile. "Because, young man, I have all the aces in this deck. I can reveal your identity to the world and end Batman's crusade once and for all. I would, of course, take no pleasure in doing so. But I warn you, do not get in the way of fulfilling my life's quest."

"Supposing I silence you?" said Bruce evenly. His Batman voice crept out, low and sinister and cold.

"What makes you so sure you can? I can play on the same level as Ra's al Ghul. Well, not physically, but my organization has a vast reach. And I'm sure you want to protect your remaining little orphans. What are their names again? Ah yes, Dick Grayson and Tim Drake. Would you really want to fail them?"

Bruce rose to his feet. "If you touch them, there is no place on this earth that you can go I won't find you and turn your miserable life into a living hell," he snarled.

"Think about it Bruce," said the Barron getting up, "do what's best for your boys. Don't tell me I can't blackmail Batman. I already did. I'm not asking you to kill anyone or bring me some earth destroying weapon. All I want is to see the Garden of Eden and the Tree of Life with my own eyes." He held the notebook out to Bruce again. "Don't tell me you aren't curious. If we find it, you can keep your boys safe. Unlike the Lazarus Pit, the Tree of Life doesn't heave evil side effects. Just think, you won't ever lose them like you did Jason Todd."

Bruce snatched the notebook from Barron Burkhalter angrily. "I'll consider it. But for now; get out of my building." He watched the Barron turn and walk through the door to the elevator. The nerve of anyone to threaten the boys galled him. Once the Barron was gone, he sat down at the desk again and began flipping through the pages of the notebook. In his heart, he knew he would help the Barron on his quest for the lost Tree of Life. Despite his resolve, the old man had peaked his curiosity. After a few minutes of looking at the book, he set it on his desk and pulled open the bottom left drawer.

Inside the drawer were two picture frames that had once rested on his office desk. He had laid them face down at the bottom of his desk, buried under papers, more than a year ago. Bruce lined them up with the picture already in front of him. His eyes roamed from the picture of Tim to the pictures of Dick and Jason that he had buried alongside memory lane. When he could hardly look at the picture of Jason any more, he turned it face down on the desk.

 _Just think, you'll never have to lose them like you lost Jason Todd._ The voice still rung in his head like a promise. It was this promise that had peaked his curiosity. The nerve of anyone to threaten the boys galled him. He had failed Jason. Staring at the picture of Dick, he felt his heart catch. He felt like he had already lost Dick in another way. But that didn't mean Bruce was ready to throw in the proverbial towel.

Rising again from the desk, he returned to the party. Tim was standing at the door leading to the stairs with his arms folded across his chest. "What did the old man want?" he asked.

For a moment, Bruce cursed Tim's powers of observation. The boy had seen the Barron approach him and knew something was up. "Not this time Tim," he said. He patted his suit jacket where he had pocketed the little notebook. "You need to stay out of this for your own protection."

"Yeah, right," said Tim rolling his eyes and falling into step behind Bruce as the older man ambled over to the punch bowl. "You'll let me in on it when the time is right won't you?"

"When the time is right," Bruce echoed. He poured himself a glass of punch and one for Tim. "In the meantime, let's enjoy the party and each other's company, shall we?" Bruce raised his glass and hit it lightly against Tim's.

After they had each taken a sip of their punch, Tim said, "I wish Dick were here dancing on the table with a lampshade on his head again. This party is a bore." Bruce smiled. He agreed, the party was a total bore.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Although it speculates on the legendary Garden of Eden and the Tree of life, this is not in any way a religious piece of writing. However, if you are hostile to any Christian themes, please don't read. I have a love of** ** _Indiana Jones_** **and a fascination for ancient landmarks and artifacts. Some may be interested in the Lost City of Atlantis or the Pyramids of Egypt or the Seven Wonders of the World. However, I have always been interested in Biblical, Jewish, or Christian artifacts like Noah's lost arch. Although this story is pure fiction, I have done research for this story to make it as plausible as possible.**


	2. Chapter 2- Officer Grayson

Batman: Raiders of the Tree of Life

Chapter 2: Officer Grayson

Bludhaven: One Month Later

Officer Dick Grayson drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel of his patrol car which was pulled off along the highway into Bludhaven from Gotham. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, he saw a heard of cars coming up on his position. Not one of them was speeding or doing anything even remotely worthy of getting pulled over. Boredom, he thought, was the real danger of his job as a police officer. Driving the patrol car at top speed towards danger or standing in the middle of a shoot-out was exciting. Those moments when he thought he was going to die were the moments he felt most alive.

He yawned and stretched his arms. The violet clouds of dusk were rolling up on the city skyline marking the end of his shift. The lights of Gotham behind him and those of Bludhaven before him began blinking into life one by one. The heated summer air was cooling off as the sun dipped below the buildings to the west. Officer Grayson turned off the air conditioning and rolled down the windows. He could now hear the rush of passing cars more clearly. When he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine the feeling of swinging from the rooftops with a grappling hook. The rush of the wind in his face with everything and nothing to lose.

From his vest pocket, his private phone started to vibrate effectively ending his contemplation on the meaning of the word "boring". He glanced at the caller ID briefly before holding the phone to his ear. "Hi, what's up Alfred?"

"Master Timothy and I were hoping for your help in a delicate situation. Master Bruce has gone missing somewhere in Rome. He sent us a message five days ago warning us that he was 'going dark' for a while and admonished Master Tim and myself not to come after him," the old butler explained. Dick could tell that the man was worried even though his tone was well measured and strong.

"If Bruce has gone dark and told you not to help him, what use can I be? You already have a detective."

"Just come back to the manor and we can work things out. Please Master Dick, it would mean so much to both of us if you were here."

"Alright Alfie. My shift finishes in fifteen minutes and then I'll be on my way," he promised. He pressed the "end call" button on his phone and shoved it back in his jacket. He had been board out of his skull a moment ago and now he would do anything to have that boredom back. He had been hoping for something to do, but looking for Bruce was not top on his list. Since they fell out a few years ago, he had not had much to do with the man, or Alfred, or even Tim. Now, suddenly he was being drawn back into the life he had tried to leave behind.

Fifteen minutes later, he was pulling out of hiding along the road, out onto the highway, and heading for the Bludhaven City Police Department. He parked the patrol car in the lot, handed over copies of the two speeding tickets he had given out, and straddled his motorcycle. Exchanging his cap for a helmet, he gunned the engine and headed for Wayne Manor. At another time, he would have said home, but it wasn't home anymore. Pulling into the driveway, everything looked exactly as it had the last time he was there. Funny how somethings don't change.

He removed his helmet and walked through the front door. He staggered backwards a step as Timothy Drake nearly knocked him over in a bear hug. "Dick you're back!" Tim cried, "it sure took you long enough."

"Missed you too, Timmy," Dick laughed as he hugged his brother back.

"Welcome back Master Dick," said Alfred. He walked over in his dignified graceful gate and put an affectionate hand on Dick's back.

"Nice to see you again Alfred," said Dick as he allowed the old man to guide him into the study. He noticed the tension in the faces of his family even as they smiled at him. Whatever had happened to Bruce had them more than a little on edge. Dick pressed the catch under the clock face and it slid back from the wall revealing a secret staircase into the Batcave. Everyone was silent as they descended the great stone steps; only their footfalls echoed ominously off the walls. When they finally made it to the main level where the Batcomputer was located, Dick couldn't take the silence any longer.

"So, what happened to Bruce?" he asked.

"That's the thing," said Tim, "we don't know. We haven't heard from him in five days. He sent us a copy of an old medieval Bible and a little leather-bound notebook right after he told us he was going dark. Then, nothing."

Fingering the Bible, Dick smiled despite himself. "Maybe he's hiding from the Vatican. Bruce stole the pope's Bible and his excellency called on God to smite the thief."

"Be serious, will you?" Tim admonished him, "Bruce is missing somewhere in Rome."

"Sorry. What do you know? What was he working on?"

Tim pulled up some research he had been doing on the Batcomputer, and Dick leaned over the back of his chair. "A month ago, a man maned Baron Burkhalter contacted Bruce and asked for his help to find the lost Garden of Eden," Tim began. He pushed the Bible towards Dick and flipped through the first few pages. The artwork within was stunning. "According to the Bible, when Adam and Eve ate from the forbidden fruit and brought death into the world, God got pissed and drove them from the garden. God set a flaming sword at the entrance to keep them from eating from the Tree of Life. Supposedly, the fruit from the Tree of Life allows people to live forever."

Dick stopped flipping through the Bible and looked up at Tim, "let me guess, Barron Burkhalter is a very old man. He wanted Bruce's help to find the Tree of life because he's dying."

"Bingo," said Tim. "He sent Bruce to Rome to start on the trail. Although nothing is known about the Garden of Eden after Adam and Eve were cast out, a small group of people believe that it survives to this day in another demention. By finding its former location, one will find a porthole to the garden itself."

"What about the note book?"

Tim picked up the notebook and flipped through the first new pages. He pulled out a little hand-written note from Bruce from between two yellow pages. He passed the note to Dick. "This notebook belonged to a Catholic Priest in the 1940's. It has every speculation, every piece of information known about the garden. The latter pages were written by Bruce. I don't know how he came by the book, but that note I gave you says that we need to keep it safe."

"What do we know about the priest?" asked Dick fingering the note.

"When the priest fled Nazi Germany, he buried the notebook before it could be taken away from him. During World War II, the Nazis were looking for religious articles of power." Tim smiled, "think _Indiana Jones_."

"Ok, so what do we know about Barron Burkhalter?"

"Not much," Tim admitted sadly.

Dick laughed. "Second best detective in the world and you don't know much? Really?"

"There just aren't many digital files on him anywhere. Believe me, I've already found every file there is on this guy and hacked it."

"What about going to talk to him? I assume you have his address," said Dick. Before Tim could answer, Dick's phone vibrated. He looked at the caller ID and his eyebrows shot up. "Ok, this is creepy," he said looking from Tim to Alfred. "It's Barron Burkhalter calling." They watched him curiously as he pressed the accept key and held the device to his ear a little hesitantly. "Hello, Dick Grayson here."

"Ah, Mr. Grayson, this is Barron Burkhalter. We haven't met, but I know your father-" began the voice on the other end of the line.

"Bruce isn't my father," Dick corrected him automatically. That earned him a frown from both Alfred and Tim. He shrugged it off. "What do you want Barron?"

"I want you to come and talk to me. _Bruce_ went missing on a mission for me and I need your help," the Barron explained, "see you at my villa in Maine tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure," Dick answered even as a hundred questions raced through his head. The Barron said something else, but he wasn't really listening. He hung up without saying goodbye. Dick turned to Alfred and Tim. "I need to change out of this uniform." They nodded and he walked up the stairs back into the manor. He sensed that they knew something was wrong with him, but they were tactful enough to let him go.

Dick walked up the stairs and into his old room. It was just as he had left it except that the pictures of his parents and the circus were no longer hanging on the walls. Alfred had clearly taken care of things hoping he would come home. The wood had been recently dusted and polished and the bed had fresh sheets on it. Dick sat down on the bed and looked at a picture on the nightstand. It was a photo of him and Bruce at a fair in Ohio. He had been only 12-years-old in the picture and wore a bright smile on his young face. Bruce looked happy too with his arm around Dick's shoulders. Those had been happy days and Dick couldn't help but miss them.

Turning away from the picture, he opened the dresser in the hopes of finding something to wear beside his uniform. Inside the top drawer, Dick found a tee-shirt; and in the drawer lower down, he found a pair of sweatpants. Unbuttoning his uniform shirt, he wondered what he would do when he met the Barron. Would he go to Rome and look for Bruce? Or could he go back to his apartment and pretend nothing happened? Drowning in these thoughts, he absentmindedly threw is uniform on the floor, changed into the comfortable clothes, and jumped back on the bed.

He heard a soft knock at the door. "Dick, can I come in?" asked Tim.

"Come on in Tim," said Dick forcing a smile.

Tim walked in and threw himself on the bed beside his brother. "You know you are every bit Bruce's son that I am, if you would only accept it. He talks about you all the time."

Dick laughed bitterly feeling an unexplainable weight on his chest. "Yeah, he'll talk about me but not to me."

"To be fair, you don't talk to him either," Tim pointed out with a short laugh. But he grew suddenly serious, "Dick, I'm scared. The Barron didn't send Batman, he sent Bruce. He must have figured out Batman's secret identity. We are dealing with possibly a very dangerous man. You always say that we are brothers, and that makes Bruce your father as well as mine. You have to be careful when you see the Barron tomorrow. Don't trust him."

"I'll taser him if he makes a sudden move for his wallet," said Dick to lighten the mood. He put an arm around Tim and squeezed his shoulders.

"I'm glad we have each other. Because you're the big brother I always wanted." Tim hugged Dick briefly before getting up and walking to the door. "Stay here tonight. Alfred's is making your favorite for dinner. I think he wants you to stay as much as I do."

"Then how could I go back to Bludhaven?" laughed Dick. He watched a smile break over Tim's face before the boy dashed from the room. Dick fell back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling before rolling over. Staring at the photo on the nightstand again, he knew in his heart that he had to go and find Bruce. Because no matter what happened between them, they were family. Bruce was a father to him even if both of them denied it.


	3. Chapter 3- The Markers

Batman: Raiders of the Tree of Life

Chapter 3: The Markers

The next day, Dick was driving Bruce's convertible Mustang to Kennebunkport, Maine to talk to Barron Burkhalter. He smiled as the summer wind whipped threw his hair as he flew along the highway. One good thing about Bruce being out of the way was that he could take whatever car he wanted without getting into trouble. He turned the radio up to drown out his own thoughts. _Five O'clock Somewhere_ by Jimmy Buffet blasted over the stereo. He knew it was an old song, but it was classic and felt appropriate with the weather.

Maine's coast in the summer was absolutely gorgeous. As he drove into Kennebunkport, he stared in awe of the beautiful coastline. The bright blue water looked stunning as it crashed in magnificent white cascades onto the rocky coast. The trees and bushes along the coast were a vivid green and glowing with life. Huge and beautiful houses were situated along the winding road to Barron Burkhalter's villa. Dick pulled into the driveway of a huge blue house with stone pillars, several floor to ceiling windows, and a beautiful balcony overlooking the water.

He stepped out of the car and was met by a security officer. "I'm Richard Grayson, Mr. Wayne's…ah…I'm his…his son. Barron Burkhalter is expecting me."

Before the security officer could do anything, Barron Burkhalter himself walked out through the huge front door holding a scotch on the rocks. He was thin and frail looking but, at the same time, putting up a convincing front of an old playboy. "Mr. Grayson, welcome! It's alright James, I've been expecting him." He walked over to Dick and put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Come along kid, I have a lot to tell you."

Dick let the Barron guide him through the spacious house and into a study with a great view of the waterfront. Barron Burkhalter eased himself into a chair behind the large oak desk. "Now Mr. Grayson, let's talk about Bruce. I sent him to Rome to find the first marker on the trail to find the lost Garden of Eden and the Tree of life."

"Hold it right there," Dick interrupted, "why would you have Bruce looking for this? He isn't an archeologist, a historian, a scholar, or a detective? Why would you send him?"

"Because," said the Barron with a sly smile, "I know he's Batman. I tried to talk Ra's al Ghul into letting me use his precious Lazarus Pit, but he would not suffer it. I was driven to extreme measures, so I devoted my life to finding the person who could help me find the Tree of Life; Batman. I discovered his secret and sent him to help me. Unfortunately, he went missing six days ago now." The Barron stood up and walked around the desk. He put his hand on Dick's back again. Dick flinched at the touch.

"You blackmailed him into helping you," Dick accused.

"You could put it that way, I suppose. But I prefer to say I was extremely persuasive."

"What do you want with me?" asked Dick sliding away from the old man's hand. He could feel his heart rate increase. Tim's warning last night echoed in his head. _You have to be careful. Don't trust him_.

"I want you, Richard Grayson, to take his place. Go to Rome, find Bruce/Batman, and find the Garden of Eden. I know you are a very competent detective yourself. You're a brilliant young man and if anyone can take over for Batman, it's you."

"I think Bruce would disagree. I've been replaced," said Dick coldly.

Barron Burkhalter laughed shortly and took a sip of his scotch. "Are you thinking of that kid he's been working with? Tim Drake?" Dick flinched at those words. "The kid's good, I'll give him that. But he isn't ready to take on this job. Only you can fill the shoes of Batman."

"I don't have a choice, do I?" said Dick quietly resigned to his fate. He stabilized himself against the desk as the realization finally hit him.

"No, you really don't. Ironic, isn't it? You spend your life trying to get out from under his shadow only to be forced to become his replacement."

 _How does he know so much about us?_ Dick pushed the comment out of his mind and asked instead. "Where do I start?"

The Barron sat down again and pushed a few photographs of ancient Christian symbols towards him. "There are four markers for the four rivers that once flowed from the garden spoken of in Genesis 2: the Tigris, Euphrates, Pishon, and the Gihon. A lot of people these days with geographical, geological, and historical backgrounds believe that they can deduce Eden's location based on the rivers. No one has had a chance, until now because they don't know about the markers."

"What markers?"

"The ancient Christians figured out the locations of the old rivers and set up markers along the riverbeds that would lead them to the Garden of Eden. To protect this secret, it was passed down within the line of early church disciples line. The last person to have this information was a priest who lived in Germany during World War II. He wrote down part of the secret to the markers in a notebook before he died. I found the book but I am too old to search for the answers to the riddles within. That's why I needed Batman. With these markers set up by the early church, it may actually be possible to find the garden."

"And the first clue to solving these riddles is in the catacombs under Rome because Christian's were persecuted under the Roman Empire. To preserve this secret, a member of the church wrote it on the walls of the catacombs to pass on to his successor," Dick guessed.

"Very clever boy," said the Barron smiling. "That's the very place where Bruce went missing along with the notebook and a medieval Bible with more clues in the artwork. I'll have a plane ticket for you to Rome for tomorrow. My associate Dr. Turner will meet you at the airport in Rome. Find Batman. Find the garden."

Dick left without a word. It was all too crazy for his brain to handle. Although the Barron had never directly threatened him, there had been a hostile undertone. Barron Burkhalter was hiding something from him. Dick could feel it. How did the old man figure our Batman's secret? How did he know about Dick and Tim? If Dick failed or disappeared like Bruce, would he coerce Tim into joining the crusade to find the garden? Dick had so many questions, but one thing he knew for sure, was that he was going to Rome and bringing Bruce home.

He got back into the car and drove away. Right now, not even the beauty of Maine's coastline in the summer could lift the dark dread eating away at his heart. _Even when you're not here Bruce, you still find ways to hurt me_. Dick got back to the manor in good time. Tim and Alfred were eagerly waiting for news. They hardly gave him a chance to recover from the long drive before bombarding him with questions. And after the question they bombarded him with pleading requests not jump into going to Rome.

"I'm going to Rome to find Bruce. Barron Burkhalter arranged it," Dick said, "end of discussion."

"But Bruce told Alfred and I not to get involved other than protecting the books. I know we have to do something to save him, but rashly going to Rome might just make things worse. Bruce probably told us not to come after him for a reason," Tim argued.

"Tim, he told you and Alfred not to go. But he never said anything about me," Dick pointed out.

"But Dick, what if you go missing? I can't lose you too."

Dick put a hand on Tim's shoulder. "You won't lose me," he promised. "I'll always come back for you. It's what brothers do."

"I want you to find Bruce, but I don't want you to die trying. I don't trust the Barron. There has to be another way."

"I don't trust him either, but I think for now he is our best bet at finding Bruce. Tim, you are the second-best detective in the world at least, but you couldn't find Bruce. Maybe I have a chance to find him in Rome. Even if that means accepting help from the man who got us into this," Dick reasoned. "You have to have a little faith in me."

"I have a lot of faith in you Dick. You aren't even the second-best person I know. You _are_ the best person I know. So, you have to come home. Promise?" said Tim looking up at him with large sad eyes.

"I promise."

Dick walked upstairs to pack. He grabbed a duffle bag from Bruce's closet, and stuffed his Nightwing costume, his eskrima sticks, cargo pants, tee-shirts, a vest, and his Indiana Jones hat (Jason had gotten it for his birthday one year) inside. Alfred brought up the notebook and the Bible to his room. The Bible was too big to fit in his bag, so he spent the next few hours memorizing the relevant pages. By the end of his studying, he could draw them accurately from memory. The notebook he shoved in the bag.

When he was done packing, Dick walked down stairs for dinner. Alfred made some lovely steak and potatoes dinner and a cherry pie for desert. Afterwards, all three crowded on the couch in the living room to watch _Star Wars_ together. Dick found himself dosing off against Tim's shoulder. The last thing he remembered before he fell asleep was Han Solo bragging about the speed of the _Millennium Falcon_ and Alfred draping a blanket over his shoulders.


	4. Chapter 4- Rome

Batman: Raiders of the Tree of Life

Chapter 4: Rome

When Dick stepped off the plane in Rome he was elated. He had spent the majority of the nine hour flight trying to avoid an annoying blond flight attendant. She had spent the majority of the flight flirting with Dick. He had pulled his Indiana Jones hat down almost over his nose and tried to study the notebook, but the woman just didn't get the hint. However, as much as the situation annoyed Dick, he was sure the man seated next to him was just as annoyed. The man beside him desperately wanted the flight attendant's attention but she ignored him except to ask what he wanted to drink or if he needed napkins. All in all, it had been a very uncomfortable flight for Dick.

Slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder, he scanned the crowed airport for Dr. Turner. After just a few minutes, a woman in a fitted navy dress and pumps approached him. She had long shapely legs like a dancer's and delicate features. He judged her to be about his age or slightly older. Her long brown hair reminded him of Anne Hathaway.

"Dr. Jones I presume?" she addressed him.

He looked at her confused until he remembered the hat. "Dick Grayson actually mam." He tipped his fedora.

She laughed. "I'm Dr. Turner. Anna Turner. I work for Barron Burkhalter. He told me you would help me find my last partner Bruce Wayne. You're his son, right?"

"You could say that," said Dick. "What do you know about Bruce?"

"If you're wondering if I know about his alternate midnight persona, yes. I do. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Only Barron Burkhalter and I know the truth about Batman in this organization."

Dick laughed without humor. "So, how do you like working for a dangerous blackmailer?" he asked.

"He's my great-grandfather, so I take it as a privilege," replied Anna. She gave him an unreadable smile and tapped her fingers on his cheek for a brief second. "You could be so cute if you weren't so skeptical. I'm here to help you find Bruce. Believe it or not, I want him back too."

"Because you need a detective," Dick pointed out. Looking at Anna he wondered, why were all the hot women on the other side?

"Yes. I need a detective to help us find the Tree of Life and Bruce is our best hope. My great-grandfather is dying. He's my family just like Bruce is yours. I want them both to be safe because I know how much it hurts to lose someone you love."

Dick saw honesty behind her hazel eyes and decided that he could afford to give her the benefit of the doubt for now. "So where do we start?" he asked.

Anna gave him a travel pamphlet. "For the rest of the daylight, we act like tourists and scope out the Vatican and the catacombs. Later tonight, you can change into your superhero costume and start doing whatever it is you do to find Bruce."

They stopped at a small Airbnb apartment over a leather working shop. They walked between two little sandstone pillars and through the kitchen. There was a small living room with smooth white walls, wood flooring, and red furniture. A large open window let in the daylight and provided a good view of the street. Two bedrooms lead off the living room. Noticing a bag and a dress on the bed of one room, Dick guessed that he and Anna were sharing the apartment while in Rome. Dick dropped his bag in the other room and Anna changed into a tourist's tee-shirt and shorts.

He allowed Anna to lead him through the crowded streets of Rome. The summer sun over the city was intense. Already exhausted by the long flight, Dick was a little grumpy about having to navigate Rome in the broiling heat. Only the spectacular scenery and history kept him going.

They got lunch at a little café across the street from the apartment. Playing the part of a young couple on their honeymoon allowed them to move though the city without attracting unwanted attention. "So," said Dick leaning back in his wicker chair under a large green and white umbrella, "what's the plan? I assume we have a place to start looking for Bruce."

"Yes. After we scope out the Catacombs, we go to the Vatican. We have to meet up with Agent 44. She's new, but very competent and devoted."

"Ooh, Agent 44. Is this cloak and dagger stuff? Like a real spy mission sort of thing? I'm kind of thinking James Bond."

"You are nothing like Bruce," laughed Anna taking a sip of her strawberry smoothie. "He was so brooding and serious. You, you're suspicious but I there's more than that too."

"And you're pretty fun for being a doctor of history and having real creep a great-grandfather."

She sighed. "I'm just lucky to have him. I don't have any other family since my fiancé Joe was killed in a car crash a year ago. I guess I just became an agent for him because I needed something to fill the hole in my life. Great-grandfather isn't all bad. He's been good to me and I want him in my life."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know," said Dick quietly. "I know how hard loosing someone you love can be. My girlfriend Barbra was shot recently. I never got the chance to ask her to marry me." _Barbra, I miss you_.

Anna raised her glass, "to the ones we loved, lost, and will always remember. To Barbra."

Dick smiled and raised his glass. "To Joe."

The first stop they made was the catacombs. Sadly, the tour guide didn't know anything that Dick and Anna didn't. The tour was short and disappointingly useless for both of them. The only good thing that came of it, as far as Dick was concerned, was that he had found all the weak points in the security to be exploited later.

As they walked away from the catacombs, Anna slid her hand into his and rested her head on his shoulder. They laughed and perused a few giftshops like any other couple before heading to their next destination. Dick found a pair of plastic glasses with a fuzzy black mustache attached. He tried them on. Anna jumped when she turned around. He laughed and she slapped his chest before pulling them off the bridge of his nose and putting them back on the sale rack.

Next, they visited Vatican City. The art and architecture were jaw-droppingly impressive, but the masses of tourists were annoying. The hot stones in the hot sun surrounded by hot people was a little unpleasant. Why couldn't Bruce have gone missing in the fall when it was a little cooler? Scanning his surroundings, Dick saw a several nuns making their way through the crowd. Without warning, Anna started to pull him towards them. He nearly walked in an old nun who was dressed a little differently than the rest. He guessed she was the matriarch or something like that. "Pardon me madam nun. Nice outfit by the way. What are you going to wear tomorrow?"

The old woman in black and white just looked at him and laughed lightly, "I have heard all these jokes before my son."

"I guess you're not amused then," said Dick.

She put a hand on his shoulder. "Keep trying, I'm sure you can come up with something original."

Anna swatted his arm. "Dick! Show a little respect for the sisters." To the nuns she added, "I'm sorry about him. He makes a lot of bad jokes."

"That depends on your taste in humor," Dick defended himself and his jokes. The nuns shook their heads, a few rolled their eyes, and a few others laughed at Dick (mostly the younger ones). Dick watched as Anna passed a little piece of paper to one of these younger women who concealed it in her robe. Turing his attention from them, Dick saw a couple of Cardinals walk by in splendid red silk robes and costly looking miters. "I want one," he said.

"A nun?" asked Anna, "Dick Grayson! I thought you were one of the good boys. I should have known."

"No not a nun! I was talking about those big pointy hats," he explained pointing to the Cardinals.

"You already have a hat," she informed him.

"Isn't it a beauty?" He pressed the fedora further onto his head and watched Anna role her eyes at him for a second time since they met only hours ago. The sun was getting low and they were done scoping out Rome for the time being, so they headed back to the apartment to change. Just as the air was cooling off they were done exploring and going to work. Dick thought his luck was pretty hard. He closed the door to his room and struggled into his Nightwing costume. Unfortunately, he couldn't bring all of this regular arsenal with him on the plane which aggravated him to no end. Blasted TSA.

Stepping out of his room, he saw Anna dressed in black cargo pants and the fitted triple-weave Kevlar jacket. A maroon domino mask covered her eye and a black hooded cape covered her long hair. There was a bow and a quiver of arrows on her back. Dick took in her appearance with a sweeping glance. He hadn't expected the woman in heals and a dress he had met at the airport to be a part of the hard fighting and danger he and Bruce were accustomed to. She planted her legs apart and folded her arms over her chest as he regarded her appraisingly.

"I like your costume," she said cocking her head, "I don't think many people can pull off black body suits like that."

"I didn't realize you would be helping me for this part," he said.

"I've got as much moxy as you. And the name's _Night_ -w _atchman_ in the field tonight. Don't forget Indiana."

Dick gave her a mock two-fingered salute. "No problem there." He took his grappling gun from his belt and put a strong arm around Anna's waist. He let out of cry of exhilaration as he jumped out the window and into the warm night air of Rome; one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **No offence intended to any Catholics. My family is mostly Catholic. That is, the part that's not atheist, Muslim, Protestant, or Buddhist. Yeah, we have some really interesting family gatherings. Coexist, right? Out of respect, please don't comment on my family.**


	5. Chapter 5- Skelletons Under the City

**Batman: Raiders of the Tree of Life**

 **Chapter 5: Skeletons Under the City**

Nightwing and Watchman arrived back at the catacombs and slipped unseen past the security guards into the underground labyrinth. There were artificial lights in part of the catacombs, however their mission required that they go beyond the section allowed to be seen by tourists or even the officials. Eventually, they made it deep enough inside that they passed the lights and blended into the darkness.

Nightwing allowed his fingers to trail along the rough walls. He could feel sand and bits of rock break under his fingertips as he felt the grooves in the walls. He switched the lenses of his domino mask to night-vision and peered and the markings carved into the rock. He was careful not to disturb the brittle bones either packed into the walls or scattered by his feet. When he looked up from examining a small but carefully shaped nick in the stone, he found himself face to face with a skull. He was almost tempted to take a step back, however, he remembered Watchman beside him and decided that such a show of squeamishness would not fill her with confidence.

"Did you find anything?" she inquired over his shoulder.

"Yes," answered Nightwing straightening, "Batman left nearly imperceptible bat-shaped markings on the wall so he could find his way back through the maze. You would never find them if you didn't know to look for them and his system."

"So, using these markings, you can retrace his steps."

"Correct. The placement and intermittency of the markers tells me he was in a hurry and not being as careful as he usually is. My guess is that he knew someone was onto him."

"Which means they're liable to come back for us," said Watchman gazing back the way they had come almost nervously.

"It's an even money bet," Nightwing agreed. He followed her gaze back through the passageway. "It just means we have to hurry and find what Batman found first."

Watchman nodded. They moved more quickly now. It was getting harder to keep their footfalls quiet as more dry bones piled up on the floor, this time many of them rodents or other small animals. Nightwing kept his gloved fingers running along the wall so as not to miss one of Batman's little grooved symbols.

As they walked, the air grew thicker and it became harder to breath. The wall became moist in places and the ground more uneven and wet. Finally, the passage they were following dead ended in a narrow alcove with a low domed ceiling. Nightwing decided to risk a little light and pulled a glow stick from his utility belt. In the dim blue light, the room looked slightly larger than it felt.

"It's a dead end," moaned Watchman disappointedly.

"We're in the right place," Nightwing assured her. "Look around."

There were two large trees carved into the walls; one on either side of the room, opposite each other. One tree was bearing large beautiful fruit and the other smaller star shaped fruits. Dick recognized the pictures from the little notebook Bruce had sent Tim and Alfred back in Gotham. One was the Tree of Life and the other was the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Between the two trees was a painting of a flaming sword and a pile of old bones.

Watchman looked at the ancient artwork. "The first marker?" she asked doubtfully.

"Not quite," said Nightwing, "but we're on the right track. At least, we're on Batman's track. See the crushed bones and scuffmarks in the dirt? There was a struggle here. This is where he went missing."

"Do you see any clues as to what happened to him afterwards?"

Nightwing knelt and read the scuffmarks. When picked up one of the bones to examine it, a few rats ran out of the pile and over his foot. He could hear Watchman grumble in disgust. At least she was more disgusted than alarmed; there might very well be more of them where they were going. He turned 360 in his crouch and began clawing at some tightly packed but fresh dirt.

Watchman peered over his shoulder in interest before she understood what he was doing. Then she knelt beside him and help claw away the wet dirt. Within minutes it gave way and a little hole, big enough only for one man to slide through at a time, appeared in the floor. Nightwing dropped the glow stick into the blackness and it revealed a smaller and less well reinforced tunnel below.

"You don't disappoint Nightwing," said Watchman smiling at him, "you're a good deal like your father."

"Yeah, whatever." He moved to slid into the hole and paused. "Excuse me, ladies first. I hope you're not claustrophobic."

"No. Lower me down please." She sat on the edge of the hole and held out her hands. He took her by the wrists and lowered her into the opening before jumping down himself.

"If anyone closes this on us, I'll break code and kill them," Nightwing vowed as he hunched to walk through the tunnel under the catacombs. In these rather extreme circumstances, he figured it was forgivable, even in a superhero, to be uncomfortable. He had never mush liked enclosed spaces, preferring to fly through the streets with a grappling gun. Down here, he could not feel the wind in rushing past his face. Down here, the air was thick and suffocatingly warm though hidden from the sun forever.

After what felt like forever nearly crawling through the damp tunnel, it too deadened. In the blue light of the glow stick the small cavern was beautiful. Although the walls of the tunnel itself were dirt, the chamber into which it opened were made of white limestone. There were markings on them painted in gold. It was a pity such a treasure must be hidden from the light of day. Nightwing held the light to the floor. There were no boot prints like he had expected. Batman had never made it this far.

In the middle of the floor was a stone tablet with ancient scrips carved into it.

"Can you read it?" asked Watchman.

"No." Nightwing shook his head. "But I'm not out of ideas." He took a piece of paper and a crayon and made a rubbing. "There, that ought to do it. Now, let's get out of here."

"You're not claustrophobic, are you?" Watchman teased.

"Me? Of course not. I just don't like it down here. We must be almost a mile below the city."

They made their way back through the tunnel only to find that the entrance had indeed been sealed shut.

"Alright, someone is so dead right now!" growled Nightwing. He was shaking as much with rage as with desperation. Suddenly, the glow still flickered and died. He could feel the darkness now as it close around his heart.

"Yeah, we are if we don't find a way out of this quickly. We'll run out of air." She sounded calmer than he had expected, like she had already made peace with her own death. But he hadn't.

"Not helping here."

"Dig!" They began desperately clawing at the loose dirt in the roof over their heads. It fell into their faces and clung to the sweat dripping down their necks. Nightwing felt it collecting in the collar of his suit but he kept digging. Soon they were forced to stop as their hands hit solid rock. His heart skipped a beat. He beat his fists against it as hard as he could. The rock was heavy but not unmovable. It budged slightly.

"Get on my shoulders and push up on the rock as hard as you can," he instructed Watchman. She nodded once before climbing onto his shoulders.

"You are so going to need a shower when we get back to the apartment," she informed him as she pushed up at the rock over their heads.

Nightwing grunted. "You don't exactly smell like Chanelle number five yourself."

She laughed.

With great effort, the rock gave way and Watchman was able to push it away from the entrance. She clamored through the narrow opening before reaching a hand down to help Nightwing. They fell flat on their backs for a moment and just breathed. Unfortunately, neither one of them had another glow stick. The thick musty air felt positively refreshing after being trapped below. It was cool and inviting by comparison.

"Well, that was one near death experience I could have lived without," panted Nightwing.

Watchman reached over and patted his shoulder. "You did good, detective."

"I'm not really the detective of my family," he muttered under his breath, but either she didn't hear him or she had elected to ignore it. Either way, it didn't really matter. He had done well. He now had the information provided by the first marker.


	6. Chapter 6- Lethal Agents

**Batman: Raiders of the Tree of Life**

 **Chapter 6: Lethal Agents**

"We should get moving," said Nightwing, "whoever trapped us down there might still be here."

"You're right. But first we should recover the entrance." Watchman levered herself off the ground and began packing the dirt back into place. It was difficult in the dark because, unlike Nightwing, she didn't have night vision lenses in her mask. Once that was done, Nightwing reached for her hand and began guiding her back through the tunnels. Again, he let his fingertips grope the wall for the little bat signs.

"Alright Watchman, who is after us? Who else knows about the mission?"

She shook her head. "No one except Batman, you, Barron Burkhalter, myself and certain members of the organization as far as I know. I'm guessing Batman's assailants were double agents."

"So there's a traitor in your organization. Great."

"That's my conclusion anyways. The filthy son of a…"

Nightwing clamped a hand over her mouth. "Quiet," he hissed.

"What? I'm sure you swear sometimes," she said forcibly removing his hand from her mouth.

"No…well, yes sometimes. But I wanted you to be quiet because we're not alone."

Watchman closed her mouth and listened. Straining her ears, she heard the footsteps of several people coming down the tunnel passage through which Nightwing was leading her. From the sound of bullets being cocked into place, whoever was coming carried sizable guns. They pressed themselves back against the wall. The bones in the shelves at their backs shifted slightly and clattered quietly against each other. They stilled their breathing and waited in the darkness for the footsteps to find them. Up ahead, the yellow beam of a flashlight rounded the corner.

"What do we do?" whispered Watchman as loudly as she dared.

"Ah, attack when they're close enough?" answered Nightwing in the same low whisper.

"You don't have a plan!"

"Of course I have a plan. We improvise."

"Thant's not a plan!"

"Do you have a better Idea?"

She didn't. As she reached for an arrow over her shoulder and fitted it on the string, Watchman felt Nightwing spinning his eskrima sticks beside her. They waited in the darkness. One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Three. Suddenly the flashlight found their faces. Temporarily blinded by the harsh light, Watchman missed her first shot by two feet. Nightwing flew past her and was on the first attacker within the fourth heartbeat. The assailant was down instantly, stunned by a powerful taser.

Watchman fitted another arrow to the string and fired. This one found its mark in a gun holder's hand. He dropped the weapon as blood seeped from the wound. She fired two more shots with the same accuracy even as bullets flew past her like deadly rain. One clipped her shoulder and another pierced her right boot. She staggered backwards. She could hear rather than see the man looming over her. Groping around in the dark, her hand prized a fallen flashlight. She shone the light in her attacker's face surprising him. He stumbled backwards and into the line of his comrade's fire. He fell for good.

She turned the light on Nightwing. He was taking on two gunmen at once armed only with sticks. He'd already taken down three others who lay at his feet. She thought he must be insane, or something close to it. Watchamn inhaled sharply as one of the men slammed Nightwing hard into the unforgiving rock wall of the catacomb. She heard bones break and hoped they were simply those of the dead who yet resided in their final resting place.

Nightwing grimaced as a bullet clipped his side. The two attackers left standing were harder to take down than the others. His high voltage taser hardly seemed to faze them. One punched him hard in the gut. He doubled over slightly. But as the man went in for the kill, he ducked under the gun and rolled between the man's legs. The quick move knocked his attacker off his feet. Nightwing was on the final assailant. He had the man's head in an armlock. Seconds later, he slumped unconscious in the vigilante's arms.

Nightwing offered his hand to Watchman. "May I assist you mi'lday?"

"Nice going Indiana," she said accepting his hand. The bullet wound near her ankle forced her to let him slip her arm over his shoulders and help her walk.

"Even if these people don't have friends coming for us, then the authorities will be down here any minute. The guards must have heard the ruckus," he grunted as he practically carried Watchman through the tunnel.

"Do you have a plan _this_ time?"

"Ah…" he had no idea what to do at the moment. However, he was confident he would figure something out when the time came. That was how he generally operated and it drove Tim Drake crazy.

Ahead, they heard the sound of another battle. This one was quieter and lacked gunfire. Nightwing and Watchman braced themselves for another struggle before rounding the final corridor. At the secondary entrance to the catacombs, stood a petite figure in black and white robes. She stood over the bodies of two more men.

Watchman breathed a sigh of relief. "Agent 44. Am I glad to see you."

"Agent 44 is a nun?" asked Nightwing in disbelief.

"Sister Marie-Clare," she introduced herself.

"Isn't fighting forbidden for you people or something?" he asked.

"We are called to help and defend our neighbors. And even Jesus overturned the tables of the money changers," Marie-Clare explained. "Come. There is little time before the guards come. We must hurry."

Nightwing and Watchman followed Marie-Clare down several narrow passages past the security guards and out into the open night air of Rome. They breathed a sigh of relief after being trapped so long under-ground. However, their relief was short lived as five more armed assailants rushed at them. Marie-Clare stepped forward and took down the first with a roundhouse kick to the face.

"Run!" she shouted.

Nightwing threw Watchman protesting over his shoulder and followed Marie-Clare. He hadn't expected her to be so fast. She picked up her skirts and flew out into the open streets; the folds of her robes flying behind her.

"They're gaining on us," Watchman informed them from over Nightwing's shoulder as she had a very good view of their pursuers (and his backside). "Now would be a very good time for some kind of plan!"

Nightwing looked desperately around the streets. "There!" he pointed to a fast-looking car parked on the side of the road, "we can get away in that."

"You mean we're going to steal a car?" asked Marie-Clare shocked.

"We're borrowing it. Borrowing it without permission," Nightwing explained. He broke open the driver's door and hotwired the engine to start. _Bruce would not be pleased, but he's not here_.

"But this is the Bishop's car!" observed Marie-Clare appalled.

"Great, kiss the hub cap and get in," ordered Nightwing, "we'll go to confession later."

At that moment, several bullets flew past her and pierced the door of the car. Marie Clare made the sign of the cross and muttered, "forgive me Father for I have sinned." She frantically yanked open the backseat door and scrambled inside as Watchman revved the engine and slammed her foot on the gas. The car shot forwards as the turbos engaged. Marie-Clare screamed in the back seat as more bullets penetrated the back window.

Their attackers were perusing them in a black Sedan. One opened the sun roof and stood up in the opening. He fired his AK47 at Nightwing, Watchman, and Marie-Clare. Watchman swerved down a narrow one-way street going the wrong way. She was about to ask Nightwing if they lost them when she heard the roar of a speeding engine behind them and a spray of bullets showered the car. Ahead, was another oncoming vehicle.

"Damnit!" cursed Watchman as the oncoming driver leaned into his horn.

Nightwing reached over from the passenger seat and yanked the wheel hard to the left. The car drove up onto the sidewalk and up a small ramp. They drove past the other car with two wheels on the side walk and two on the brick wall of a building. Once they were past that obstacle, they drove back onto the main road. Behind them, their attackers crashed past the other car like mad men and continued gaining on them.

Nightwing opened his window and started climbing out onto the roof.

"What are you doing?" demanded Watchman, "get back in your seat."

"If these are the people I'm looking for, they can tell me where to find Batman. I'm not going to miss this opportunity," Nightwing explained.

"They'll shoot you!" Marie-Clare pointed out.

"No, they won't." Nightwing gave her a fierce confident smirk. "Watchman, let them get a little closer," he said climbing onto the roof of the speeding car.

"Closer?" Are you crazy!"

"Yeah maybe. I hate Batman but I'm willing to get myself killed to bring him back. I think that's practically the definition of crazy."

Never the less, Watchman allowed the Sedan to get closer. There was a loud thump as Nightwing leapt from the roof of their car on to the roof of the Sedan. He surprised the gunman in the sun roof so badly that the man fell without a fight. The man who took his place was much tougher. They traded punches on the roof of the car for what felt, to Nightwing, like forever until they lost their balance and rolled off the roof. They landed hard on a sidewalk. Nightwing grunted as the impact aggravated his injured ribs. But, he recovered quickly and grabbed the man by the lapel.

"Where…is…Batman?" he demanded adding pressure to the man's throat.

"I-I can't t-tell you. He was helping _them_ find the Tree of Life. We had to stop him," gasped the man.

"I don't care about the Tree of Life! I don't even believe in it."

" _They_ do."

"And who are _they_?"

"Death. They fly the bent cross."

"Interesting," growled Nightwing, "but you still have to tell me where to find Batman. Once I have him, we'll leave."

"In th-that case, y-you will find him at the ruined Castle of Bonecheli on the Italian Riviera," said the man, "but I warn you, leave the Tree of Life buried. Take your family and go."

"That's all I want." Nightwing released the man. He could hear the sirens of Rome's police force coming up on them. He grabbed his grappling line and flew out into the night over the skyline of Rome.


	7. Chapter 7- Castle by the Sea

**Batman: Raiders of the Tree of Life**

 **Chapter 7: Castle by the Sea**

When Nightwing arrived back at the apartment, Watchman and Marie-Clare were already waiting for him. Watchman had already transformed back into Anna Turner and was sitting on the long couch with an ice pack on her temple. Marie-Clare was bandaging Anna's wounded ankle as he stepped through the window and into the living room.

Tossing his gear on the floor, Nightwing smirked at the two women. "Well that was fun."

Marie-Clare snorted. "Hardly. Anna's pretty banged up."

"That tends to happen when you're having a good time," Nightwing shrugged. "You're doing a marvelous job with the wrappings," he added inspecting the dressing on Anna's ankle, "tell me, do you have a thing for mummies?"

"Very funny. You're next." Marie-Clare glared at him.

"No thanks. I'm beat."

"My point exactly."

Nightwing yawned and waved his hand dismissively. "Mummy doesn't look good on me."

He made a move to enter his room but Marie-Clare blocked his path and ordered him to sit down. Too tired to bother resisting her, he walked over to the couch and sat down next to Anna. They had a brief argument about removing his mask so Marie-Clare could clean a cut on his cheek. He didn't want to reveal his identity, but in the end, he let her take it off. He didn't trust her, but he realized the he had already met her as Dick Grayson back at the Vatican. She already knew who he was.

Marie-Clare pulled off the shirt of his uniform and inspected the black and blue bruising pattern along his side. Dick made a joke about it matching his Nightwing uniform; being "skin tight in all". Anna massaged her forehead and mumbled something about bad puns as she moved the ice pack from her head to his chest. He flinched.

"So, did those guys in the sedan give you the information you wanted, or were you all too dead?" asked Anna leaning back against the couch and folding her arms over her chest.

"They told me that Batman is being held at Bonechelli Castle on the Italian Riviera," answered Dick.

"It may be a trap," said Anna thoughtfully.

"Maybe. But it's all I have to go on right now."

"And did they tell you who _they_ are?" asked Marie-Clare as she dabbed at the cut on his face with an antiseptic.

"No. All they told me is that they have sworn to stop your organization and, by extension, Batman. Now, are you going to tell me what _you_ really are? And what the 'bent cross' is?" asked Dick. Exhaustion and suspicion was overriding his usually banter and Tom-foolery.

"We are _The Organization_. We are mostly a combination of spies and archeologists looking for ancient powers. The 'bent cross' is out standard. That's all I can tell you for now," said Anna.

"Well that's a lot of information," muttered Dick sarcastically.

"Speaking of information, do you still have the rubbing you made of the marker?"

"Sure." He pulled it out of the chest pocket from the lining of his costume and handed it to Anna. She looked over everything with mild interest. He thought that was a little curious. He had been expecting her to study it carefully for the clues that would lead them to the second marker. After her cursory inspection, Anna folded the paper haphazardly and stuffed it in her robe pocket. She sighed and leaned back against the cushions once more.

"You two should get some rest," Marie-Clare pronounced as she finished wrapping gauze around Dick's bruised ribs. "If you're going after Batman tomorrow, you'll need energy."

"And where are you going?" asked Dick.

"Back to the sisters. They may have noticed I left." Maire-Clare left the apartment with all the grace and dignity of a woman of faith.

Dick levered himself off the couch and made his way to his bedroom door. A hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned to see Anna gazing up at him with her large dark eyes. Something inside him flared at her touch, but he squashed it. He didn't need to get involved with a woman he couldn't trust.

"Let me stay with you tonight," she pleaded, "after everything that happened, I don't want to be alone."

"I think it would be best if you went back to your own room," he said flatly.

"I thought…I thought maybe you and I had a connection. Didn't you feel it out there tonight? Don't you trust me? I thought I proved myself. You did when you saved me."

"Yeah, I trusted you out there," he admitted, "or more, I wanted to. It's been so long since I had someone to watch my back; I missed it. So yeah, I let myself trust you and banter because we were working together. But you and me? Were on different missions. And you still haven't told me enough about yours for me to trust you any further."

He pulled her hands off his shoulders and stepped into his room. Anna followed him.

"I told you my mission. It's to save my great-grandfather. He's my only family," said Anna. "I thought you understood."

"But what's his mission? Why are there people so desperate to stop him from finding the Tree of Life?" Dick demanded.

"His mission is to _live,"_ Anna insisted, "if you knew a way to live on and see your great-great grandchildren, wouldn't _you_ take it?"

"No. I'll die when my time comes. And then I'll see my parents and Barbra again," answered Dick.

"I see."

Anna moved to join him on the bed. "Just let me stay here. Maybe you're not afraid of anything, but I am. And I trust you."

"Watchman is afraid of something?" he teased. He couldn't resist.

"Shut up, Dick."

He let her crawl into bed beside him. Anna pulled the sheets up over her shoulders and snuggled down. Dick reached over and turned off the bedside lamp. Then he curled up as close the other edge of the bed as he could. Part of him wanted to turn around and cuddle with her, but the more logical part of his brain told him that would be a mistake. Anna wasn't the enemy as far as he knew, but neither was she to be trusted. Things were complicated. They always were.

Dick felt a soft but strong arm slide around his waist. He froze. Anna was warm against him. He knew the smart thing to do was to push her away. But part of him wouldn't let him. It had bee to long since there was someone to hold him. Not since Barbra was…so he didn't. Dick let Anna hold him, but he didn't turn to face her. She seemed fine with that and laid her head against his back.

The next morning, Dick woke up an hour or so after the sun. He moved Anna's head off his chest gently and got up. His ribs were more sore this morning than they had been last night. He didn't want to stand up, or do anything for that matter. Even breathing hurt. Gingerly, he bent over to grab some clean clothes and a towel before heading to the bathroom for a shower. Looking in the bathroom mirror, he saw the purple-ish black patchwork of bruises on his chest and side; it was a depressing sight. Dick groaned. Ouch.

The hot water and steam were the best thing and the worst thing at the moment. His stiff muscles began relaxing, but little cuts and bruises on his skin stung under the hot water. It was a pleasant sort of unpleasantness. He spent longer than he needed to under the water and steam. After too short a time, he reluctantly turned the water off, dried himself, and pulled on his clothes. Batman was waiting for him somewhere on the Riviera.

After Anna was up and dressed, they got a rental car and headed for Bonechelli Castle. Over the radio, a reporter was regaling the people of Italy with the story, or part of the story, of last night's caper. The Bishop's damaged car was mentioned. Fortunately, his excellency vowed to "turn the other cheek" and hope that the vandals would come to their senses and repent. Dick looked a little sheepish. Repent? Yeah, he was sorry about stealing the car, but not sorry he wasn't gunned down in the street by mad men. Was a wrong ever a right? Lines were getting more and more blurry as he got older.

"There's the castle," said Anna as they pulled up at a respectful distance from Bonechelli Castle, "if we're looking for Batman, do you want to go in as Nightwing or Dick Grayson the idiot tourist?"

"Dick Grayson is not an idiot tourist," said Dick indignantly, "he's a charming tourist."

"Tell that to the waitress you spilled the Ketupat on."

"It was a very slippery Ketupat bottle," he defended himself. He laughed as Anna rolled her eyes at him. Sobering quickly however, he decided, "I'll go in as Nightwing. It's a little harder to explain Dick Grayson snooping around a ruined castle."

"I'm sure you could come up with some ridiculous story," said Anna.

"Oh sure, I'd just tell everyone I'm thinking of putting in carpeting and air conditioning. Think anyone would buy it?" he slipped into the back seat to change.

"No." Anna began putting on her own costume, careful of her injured ankle. She could walk on it, but only with extreme discomfort. She laughed when she turned around to see Nightwing wearing his Indiana Jones hat. _What a dork,_ she thought. _But a very cute dork. Pity he was walking into a trap_.

They raced towards the looming ruined castle by the sea. The large white stones were breaking apart and the place looked deserted. Hardly a good place to hold a prisoner like Batman, but then, looks could be deceiving. Slipping past the nearly invisible security precautions, Nightwing and Watchman scaled the side of the castle wall with their ascension cables. Once on the top of the wall, they leapt down into the courtyard. In the daylight, their dark costumes didn't give them any camouflage, so they had to be extremely cautious.

Inside, they ran into several security officers who Nightwin took down quickly and quietly. Watchman pulled up at one of the computers and accessed the security cameras.

"They're holding Batman under-ground in the old dungeons," she informed her partner.

"Nice to know. How do we get him out?"

"The cells are old. They'll most likely have old fashioned keys. But if they've managed to keep Batman here for so long, there must be other measures to prevent breakouts."

"Good points. Do you see the way we get down there?"

"Yes. Down the hall, two lefts, a right, and down a long flight of stairs. Two floors below us."

"Great. I'll scout ahead," said Nightwing. He left the computer room, leaping over two guards he had taken out, and flew down the hall.

"Wait, we should stick together," Watchman called after him, but it was pointless. She sighed. The guy had a death wish, she was sure of it.

Nightwing flew through the old castle as fast as he could. The cold stone walls and floor were apt to echo his footfalls, but he was a professional. His feet were as light as there were fast. He ran into two more guards and he took them out like a phantom.

As he got deeper into the castle and closer to the dungeons, the air grew thicker, colder, and darker. It reminded him of the catacombs and he shivered. All he had to do was grab Bruce and get out. Simple. He charged down a long winding staircase and raced down the hall towards the cell blocks. Nightwing halted abruptly in front of an occupied cell. There he was; Batman. At last.

"Nightwing?" said Bruce in disbelief.

"Dr. Jones actually," said Dick tipping his hat, "and you must be Batman."

Ok. It was certainly Nightwing/Dick standing before him. Mirages don't make jokes. "You shouldn't be here," Bruce informed him.

"Nice to see you too."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm the building inspector and this cell is not up to code."

"Not funny."

"Geezes Bats, I'm here to rescue you," said Dick flippantly. He scanned the halls for the keys.

"Get out of here," Bruce warned him, "just leave me and get out while you still have the…" He cut himself off and his eyes narrowed as Watchman rounded the corner of the detention hall.

"Nightwing, I found the keys," said Watchman triumphantly. She walked down the hall and gave them to Dick. "Hurry, this place gives me the creeps."

"Yeah, me too," Nightwing agreed. He began to unlock the cell door and pull it open.

"Nightwing, look out!" shouted Batman frantically. But his warning came too late. Watchman shoved Nightwing into the cell with Batman and slammed the door locking them both in. Watchman, Anna Turner, was a traitor.


	8. Chapter 8- The Reunion

**Batman: Raiders of the Tree of Life**

 **Chapter 8: The Reunion**

Nightwing grabbed the iron bars of the cell door. "Anna? What are you doing?"

"She's a traitor," spat Bruce disgusted.

Dick stared at Anna as the truth hit him harder than he expected it too. "Those men who tried to kill us in the catacombs were working for you, so…"

"Why did they try to kill me too?" she finished. He nodded. "Well, Dick, that's simple; we'll do anything, sacrifice anything, to prevent my great-grandfather and the bent cross form fulfilling their mission. Even if I had to die to do it. I'm sorry Dick," she said shaking her head, "it's nothing personal, I really do like you, but I can't let you help Batman and my great-grandfather find the Tree of Life."

"But I don't care about the tree. Just let us go, and we'll go back to Gotham," Dick insisted.

"I wish I could Dick, but my great-grandfather already coerced Batman into helping him once. We can't risk it."

Dick turned and glared at Bruce. Suspicion crept into his eyes. Then he turned back to Anna. "But you told me you wanted to help the Baron find the tree so he could live because he was your only family."

"I lied. I don't want him to live. He had my fiancé Joe killed and I won't allow him to live on and ruin the lives of others," vowed Anna. She turned and walked away, hating herself. She was falling for Dick Grayson. She couldn't look back at the angry look of betrayal he wore. Things were compilated. They were always complicated.

Angry, hurt, and suspicious, Dick turned to face his roommate. Batman, or Bruce rather, was glaring at him. If he had Clark's heat vision, Dick suspected that Bruce would have fried him already. He took a few steps towards his estranged father figure who had moved back into the shadowy back corner of their prison.

"What did she mean?" asked Dick darkly.

"I thought I told you not to come after me," Bruce growled in his low cold voice.

"No. You told Alfred and Tim not to come after you. You never mentioned me," Dick pointed out.

"That goes without saying. I thought I wouldn't have to tell _you_ not to come."

"Why? Because you didn't think I would care enough to, or because you thought I was too incompetent to?" snapped Dick.

Bruce didn't dignify the accusation with a response. Instead, he leaned back against the cell wall and folded his arms over his chest. He glared at Dick from under his cowl. He didn't know why Dick had come for him. He was both touched and irritated to see his eldest son. While he was thrilled to see Dick's loyalty manifest itself, he was also aggravated by the boy's rashness and disregard of orders.

For his part, Dick was almost visibly shaking with anger. Here he was risking his life for Bruce and the man wasn't even going to be civil to him. Maybe he understood Bruce's annoyance that he had gotten himself captured. After all, he was rather annoyed with himself. But he at least wanted Bruce to…accentually, Dick didn't know what he wanted. Maybe recognition. Maybe a little kindness. He wasn't sure. But something other than another lecture.

Inside, Dick was crushed by Bruce's coldness. He reflected that he should be used to it. It had been the thing that finally drove him out of Gotham to Bludhaven. They hadn't talked in almost a year. That, he knew, was both of their faults. And getting mixed up with spies, double agents, and traitors wasn't going to help. If anything, it had made Dick more suspicious of Bruce; and made Bruce more apt to lectures.

But by coming all the way to Italy to save him, Dick had been hoping deep down that they could make a new start. That somehow he and Bruce could work things out. Even though it was hard to admit, he missed being Batman and Robin together. Flying solo was great, but Dick missed having someone there to watch his back and someone there to watch when he did something really cool. But if this was a new start, then in his opinion, it was a really poor one.

"Look, Bruce, as long as we're going to be roommates, why don't we try getting along for a change," Dick suggested.

"Humph," sniffed Bruce. "You shouldn't be my roommate. You should be safe back in Bludhaven."

"Yeah, because Bludhaven is _so_ safe."

"You don't understand," Bruce insisted, "it's dangerous for you to be anywhere near me. Barron Brukhalter threatened you and Tim to get me to help him." Bruce let his head dip slightly with pain and fatigue. "He targeted the only things I have left to lose."

Dick didn't know what to say to that, so he just remained quiet for a minute before deciding to change the subject. "Who is Barron Burkhalter really?"

"He's the last living Nazi," said Bruce, "I figured it out before I left for Rome. He took a dip in one of the Lazarus Pits and has been determined to be immortal ever since. He wants to bring back the glory of the Third Reich."

"Then the bent cross is the swastika," said Dick, "how did I not see that before?"

"You weren't paying attention. You let your emotions cloud your judgement."

"Really? You were going to help the Barron because he threatened Tim and me?" cried Dick, "who's judgement is clouded now!"

"NO!" Bruce practically shouted at him. "I took his information and started my own mission. I accepted Dr. Turner's help for appearances, but as it turned out, she had her own mission too."

"Geez, all these people on their own missions is giving me a headache."

"And what's your mission?" asked Bruce.

"I came to bring you home. It's simple."

Bruce let his eyes roam the interior of their cell. "Yeah. Simple."

"Hey, I didn't say it was well executed!" Dick snapped.

The two fell silent. Dick walked over to the signal cot in the cell and sat down. The thing's uneven steel frame clanked under his weight on the stone floor. The old springs creaked as the thin mattress sagged. Dick rested his back against the cold stone wall and let his eyes drift closed. He could sense Bruce starring at him but he wasn't in the mood to talk any more. He suspected neither was Bruce. Instead, he focused on the cold air and the solid wall at his back. Apparently, Anna and her spies didn't have a reason to keep them comfortable or anything.

Anna. What kind of traitor was she? She betrayed him and Bruce. She tried to have them both killed while posing as their only ally in this strange affair. Yet her motives weren't wrong. She was trying to protect the world from Barron Burkhalter and the Bent Cross. They should be on the same side. But they weren't because she didn't trust them, and they didn't trust her. Whatever happened to the old adage, "the enemy of my enemy is my friend."

Thinking about all of this just really hurt. Dick felt emotionally and physically drained at the moment. Bruce's silent watchfulness really wasn't helping anything. Which brought his mind to another question; how could the Barron get Bruce to do anything? As far as Dick knew, Alfred was the only person who had that particular super power. Dick suspected that there was more going on in Bruce's head than he was letting on. Of course, Bruce wouldn't tell him anything. How infuriating.

"You alright?" Bruce's voice broke into his thoughts.

"Yeah, fine," Dick answered. He must not have sounded convincing because Bruce went right on staring.

To this, Bruce's only response was a soft grunt. The man folded his arms over his chest again and continued to scrutinize his son from under a lowered brow. To his eyes, Dick was a little thinner than he had been last time they met. Otherwise on the outside, he looked ok; healthy, strong, still feisty unfortunately. He had cut his hair which was a blessing in Bruce's opinion.

But there was still something off about Dick. He wasn't as lighthearted or boisterous as he usually was. If it had been someone else, Bruce might have though that he had finally out grown it, but not Dick. Being light was who he was. The only word Bruce could thing to describe Dick at the moment was, worn.

Bruce was worn out too. Being locked away in and underground dungeon does that to people. He felt the stubble growing on his chin and upper lip. Batman plus beard equaled a terrifying sight. Until Dick showed up, he had been seriously considering making friends with the local rodent population for company. Though not the world's most social person, even Batman got lonely sometimes. It was probably a small reason why he let Robin and Alfred join him in his crusade all those years ago. It was why, even though he'd never say so, he secretly wanted Dick to come back to Wayne Manor.

"Have you ever tried to escape?" asked Dick shifting on the cot.

"Of course," answered Bruce shortly.

"What did you find out?"

"If it's not impossible, it's really hard."

"What about that drain great on the floor?"

"Impossible. Not only is it too heavy, it's electrified."

"Stand back," ordered Dick rising. He bent down and examined the great. Then, working with some wires and devises still concealed in his costume, Dick proceeded to short circuit the electric current in the floor. The few artificial lights in the dungeon went black.

"Great," said Bruce sarcastically, "you shorted the building. There will be guards down here in seconds."

"We'll be long gone by the time they get here," said Dick. "Help me with the great."

"It's too heavy."

"For you maybe, but not for us." Together, they pulled the lid off the great and lifted it out of place.

"You shouldn't have just short circuited the thing like that," Bruce scolded. He grunted with the effort of moving the huge iron drain cover. "You should have discussed it with me first and made a plan. Spontaneous escape plans rarely work."

"Next time, I'll consult you," grunted Dick. He peered into the black opening in the floor. "This should be fun. Going down?"

Bruce scowled and moved past him. "I'll go first and find out how deep it is." He relinquished some of his hold on the great and began sliding into the little opening. Dick let out a soft curse of pain as he took on more of the great's weight. Bruce paused his decent and looked up at him.

"Did they hurt you?" asked Bruce. Concern crept into his voice and it softened just a bit.

"Just my pride," answered Dick.

"Good." Bruce shoved the heavy grate at him.

Dick grunted. "And my ribs."

Bruce glared up at him as he slid into the small opening in the floor. His look said, _next time tell the truth._ But Dick just rolled his eyes. Like Batman would ever take his own advice on that score. Alfred liked to complain about Bruce running himself into the ground. Apparently, Dick was stubbornly determined to follow those footsteps. Like father, like son.

Dick lowered the great to the ground as quietly as he could. The artificial lights blinked back on and he heard the guards' footsteps coming down the passage. Without waiting for Bruce's report on the condition down below, Dick eased himself into the opening and heaved the great back into place. He fell into the blackness just as the guards were rounding the corner. A strong hand pulled him to his feet and they began running through the drain system. All they could do was hope there was another opening they could break though.

"When we get out of here, you're going straight home," said Bruce.

"I came here to bring _you_ home and I'm not leaving without you," declared Dick stubbornly.

"No arguments."

"I'm not nine-years-old anymore."

"You came here without knowing who you were dealing with or what the real agendas were. You didn't know anything about Barron Burkhalter or his organization. You blindly jumped in spurred on by your emotions. That's what got Jason killed and I won't make the same mistake with you." Bruce glared at Dick. The battle of wills had begun again.

"It's not your mistake to make. It was mine. My choice. I am an autonomous being, in case you haven't noticed."

"Believe me, I've noticed," said Bruce in that tone of voice an exasperated parent would use when talking to a disobedient, trouble-prone child.

"Hey, who was sitting in a cell when I got here?" asked Dick rhetorically. He folded his arms over his chest.

"Not a good point ever to bring up again," growled Bruce darkly.

Dick's face broke out into a mischievous smile. "I should have taken a picture of you and sent it back to Tim."

"If you had, I would have left you in that cell."

"You'd have tried."

"Quiet. There are people above us."

Bruce smiled in spite of himself. He was glad the drain tunnel was so dark. He didn't want Dick to see it. He tried not to think about what was in the rancid water sloshing around his feet. Right now, Batman missed the sun. Not something he ever thought he'd say but it was true. Luckily, there was light streaming in from overhead, a little way down the tunnel. He'd be out in the open soon.

 **Author's Note: Hope you're enjoying the story. Thanks for reading.**


	9. Chapter 9- Escape A La Nightwing

**Batman: Raiders of the Tree of Life**

 **Chapter 9: Escape A La Nightwing**

Bruce and Dick continued to make their way through the drain tunnel towards the light. The water level rose steadily and soon they were wading through waist deep muck. Batman's cape grew harder to drag after him, but he'd never say so. The cape was an essential part of his costume and he wasn't about to give Nightwing (who no longer wore a cape) the satisfaction of pointing out how impractical they could be.

"Ugh!" Dick slipped a little and his hand fell into the water. "Well this is just lovely," he exclaimed.

"Keep your voice down," ordered Bruce sternly.

Dick rolled his eyes, annoyed by the rebuke. He hadn't been that loud. An idea popped into his head and he went with it before his better reasoning kicked in and told him off. He shook the gunk off his hand, flinging it into Batman's face. _Well that was satisfying_. He withheld his rising laughter and simply said, "oops."

Bruce growled. Dick felt a wash of filthy water splash up his backside from behind as Bruce retaliated. He stopped dead in his racks and turned around. "Oops," said Bruce. Though he couldn't be sure, Dick thought he detected a hind of a smile in Bruce's voice.

Moment passed, Bruce trudged past him and continued towards the light up ahead. Within another minute of sloshing through the murk, they stood under an opening. Natural light spilled through a little hole in the roof of the tunnel. Like the opening in the dungeon, this too was covered by a steel great. Together, Bruce and Dick pushed the cover up off the opening.

They blinked a few times as their eyes adjusted to the light. Nightwing pulled himself through the opening before Batman could tell him to wait and see if the coast was clear. He just wanted to get out of the gunk.

The great led out into a little grove of trees just outside the castle wall. Once it had been an orchard perhaps, but had long since been allowed to grow wild. There were oaks and pines in among a bunch of apple trees. The underbrush and weeds had taken advantage of the wet soil and grown rapidly. The ground itself was wet being used for drainage for hundreds of years. When Dick walked away from the drain, a slurping noise accompanied him as he dragged his feet out of the mud.

"I hate wet boots," he complained as Batman came up beside him, "walking in wet boots leads to blisters."

"We have bigger problems then wet uniforms," Batman reminded him.

"I know. Weren't you listening? _Blisters._ "

Bruce felt a headache coming on _. Oh Dick._ "The guards will have figured out how we escaped by now and be looking for all possible exits from the drain tunnel. They'll be coming for us. We need to conceal ourselves and ambush them. Take them out quick and quiet, then make our getaway. Nightwing, I need you to…" When Batmen turned around, Nightwing was gone. He had disappeared seemingly into thin air. "So that what that feels like," he muttered to himself before pulling a disappearing act of his own.

A small detachment of guards ran into the grove just as Batman had predicted. Unbeknownst to them, Nightwing was concealed in the overhead branches of a tall sturdy oak. He reached over stealthily and plucked two apples from a nearby tree. Taking aim, he threw them at the back of the guards' heads. They sank to the ground. Unfortunately, he gave the remaining guards a hint as to his location. They opened fire on the overhead branches.

From his hiding spot, Batman watched in amazement as Nightwing leapt gracefully from tree to tree. He spun his body through intricate moves and finally out of sight into the thick foliage. Batman used Nightwing's distracting antics to his advantage and attacked the guards from behind. He took out another two quickly and quietly by throwing rocks at their heads before concealing himself in the underbrush again.

Together they cut their enemy down to size. Soon Batman and Nightwing were able to engage in close quarter combat. They worked together as if they had never been apart. The perfect dynamic duo went into action once again. In a mater of moments, they were standing amid their fallen foe. Batman looked up from his handiwork just in time to see one of the men pull the pin out of a grenade.

"Nightwing!" cried Batman in shear terror as he spotted the man's intended target. Dick looked up in time to see the grenade coming towards him. There wasn't time for even his sharp reflexes to get him to safety. But at the last possible moment, Bruce threw himself at Dick and pulled them both to the ground. He wrapped his arms around Dick's torso and rolled away from the explosion. The ground shook. Dirt and burning foliage showered down on them. Batman used his own body and cape to shield Nightwing from the worst of the blast.

Realizing that his prey had eluded him, their attacker pulled out his gun again and prepared to fire at Batman and Nightwing as they still lay in the dirt. Even pinned to the ground by Batman's full weight, Nightwing was able to pick up a rock and launch it at the man. It hit him between the eyes and he sank to the ground unconscious.

Dick looked up at Bruce. "Ah, thanks," he said a little awkwardly and a little reluctantly.

"You left your flank open."

Bruce rolled to the side so Dick could sit up. He brushed the dirt out of his face and spat out the earth he had involuntarily take a bite of. There were bits of dirt between his teeth when his face got slammed into the ground beside Nightwing's head. Perfect. Just perfect.

"That worked out rather well," said Dick getting up and casually dusting himself off seeing as their current attackers had all been taken care of for the moment.

"Escapes are never that easy," said Bruce sweeping his calculating gaze around the castle and grounds. Suddenly they were running for cover as the guards opened fire on them from the grounds and castle walls.

"You jinxed it!" cried Dick as they ran. Bruce didn't bother with a response. Typical.

They kept running.

"We need a plan. Now," said Bruce. His voice was low and level.

"We have a plan; escape," panted Dick.

"That's not funny."

"Wasn't trying to be. Anna and I came here in a car. It should be parked on the other side of the castle, about 60 feet from the West entrance."

"That won't work. They'll be expecting us to go back for it."

"Then what will work?" Dick snapped. "So far you've criticized me the whole time but you haven't contributed any better ideas."

"We need another vehicle. Something they won't be expecting; and we can't go for the motor pool because it will be heavily guarded."

"On the way in I scanned for vehicles and escape routes. There's a motorcycle hidden behind…"

Bruce cut him off. "No. No motorcycles. Those death traps are unnecessary risk factors."

"Again, with the objections!"

"Motorcycles offer no protection."

"Since when were you such a worry wart?" demanded Dick. He was getting tired of the lack of support he was getting.

"Since I don't have my utility belt and my reckless former partner is taking point because he decided to escape without consulting me," answered Bruce. His voice betrayed his aggravation about the situation even as he vaulted over a chain-link fence into the motor pool away from the guards now on their tails.

"You just said we can't go to the motor pool!" cried Dick as he followed Bruce over the fence and the gunfire intensified.

"Change of plan!" shouted Bruce. _It's a diversion_ , he added mentally.

The argument was put on pause abruptly as both Dick and Bruce scanned their surroundings. They had seconds before their other would-be assailants caught up with them. They were standing in among multiple cars in need of repair, engine parts, and tools. But the thing that caught Bruce's eye, were the barrels of oil and gasoline. If Dick wanted him to stop criticizing and come up with a plan, he was more than willing to comply. He grabbed a blow torched and tossed a crowbar to Dick. He couldn't bear to hold the thing any longer than to toss it to Nightwing who looked equally agitated by it.

Snapping his mind back to the present, Bruce kicked over one of the barrels of gas and turned to Dick. "Pry the lids off these things and kick them over. Hurry!"

"You're going to blow this place to kingdom come!" cried Dick even as he complied. He flashed Bruce a fierce grin, "I like it."

If the circumstances had been any less dire, Bruce would have been tempted to face palm. They had to set this place up in flames before the guards came running head on into the initial explosion and his partner was making jokes. He could tell that Dick saw the seriousness of the situation, yet he still had to go for levity. Bruce wasn't sure if he found that particular trait of Dick's aggravating or endearing. Probably the latter since, although he complained about it, he missed it. Or more accurately he missed complaining about it just to get under Dick's skin.

The guards came running up to the gate and began to break in. They were out of time. "Now!" shouted Bruce. He dropped the blow torch into the gasoline pooling around the barrels before he and Dick jumped clear, rolling behind a van for cover. The guards at the gate ran in panic and soon frantic shouts to put the fire out rang through the countryside. The fire soon reached the cars in the motor pool and they began to explode one by one. Bruce spared a moment to look up at the castle. He hoped such a beautiful piece of history would not be destroyed.

Vaulting back over the fence unseen in the confusion, he followed Dick to the hidden motorcycle. Dick didn't hesitate to hot wire the cycle and set himself astride. For his part, Bruce was still highly suspicious of the motorcycle. But time was of the essence, so he climbed on behind Dick. They probably didn't have long before the fire failed to keep the guards busy and they resumed their mission to recapture Batman and Nightwing.

"Where to, Big Man?" asked Dick, "I hear Paris is nice."

"Head back towards Genoa. We can lose ourselves in the city," said Bruce.

"Genoa it is. Hold onto my waist. This is going to be a fast takeoff," said Dick.

"I'm not going to risk further injuring your ribs by holding on to you," declared Bruce stubbornly.

"You'll fall off if you don't."

"I have impeccable balance."

"Suit yourself." Dick shrugged and gunned the engine. The motorcycle shot forwards; the GeForce threatened to send Batman tumbling off the back. Dick felt Bruce give him a bear-hug to kept himself from falling. "So much for impeccable balance." Dick let out a strangled laugh.

"Just drive," ordered Bruce in a low growl but he did loosen his hold on Dick a little.

They sped out onto a gravely unused rode leading from the castle. The rode was clear, lined only with a few trees and boulders. And then their sharp ears detected the sound or pursuing vehicles. At least one car and two other motorcycles. Dick increased speed as their pursuers came into view. Bruce cursed as a few bullets flew past them.

"Hang on," Dick shouted as he swerved sharply to the right. The bike skidded in the gravel as he made the hairpin turn at high speed. If he had been anything short of the incredibly skilled driver that he was, they would have been turned into street pizza. The pursuing motorists were forced to drop back and take the turn more slowly. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to lose them.

Dick led them over the rough terrain at a fast clip. Although he was a much better driver than any of them, the pursuers were tenacious. After a few minutes of the chase, they make in it out from the sparse forest near the castle and out onto a more traveled road. They could see the coast in the near distance now. There was a cliff on their left and a railroad track on the right. The new road was smoother and wider giving the men trailing them space to put Batman and Nightwing between them.

One motorcycle somehow managed to pulled up to the left them and aim his gun at the back of Dick's head. Without thought, Bruce punched him in the gut and slapped the gun from his hand. The man was forced to retreat but the distraction allowed the people in the car and the other motorcycles to get closer.

"I'm starting to think we need to do something drastic to lose them." Dick had to shout to make himself heard over the incoming train racing beside them.

"Let them get close enough for me to jump onto the roof of the car. I'll take out the drivers. You handle the motorcycles," said Bruce.

"Not exactly what I had in mind," said Dick in a tone than made Bruce instantly wary.

Dick suddenly swerved towards the train tracks taking their pursuers completely by surprise. Ahead, was a tunnel through the mountain for motorized traffic. Beside it was another tunnel for railroad traffic. Between the attackers on their tail, the mountainous roads, the cliff and the train, the danger of the situation was escalating quickly. Dick gunned the engine towards the tunnels but not towards the one intended for cars and motorcycles; instead, he headed for the railway tunnel.

Bruce inhaled sharply when he saw where Dick was going. There was a narrow space between the tunnel wall and the body of the oncoming train. Dick swerved the motorcycle hard to the left and began racing along side the rack towards the space in the tunnel. The headlight on the train doubled in size every second. The driver yanked on the whistle warning Dick to get out of the way. But he was too reckless and stubborn for that.

"Are you crazy? Don't go through there! Do you hear me? Abort," cried Bruce.

"Too late," shouted Dick over his shoulder.

Bruce couldn't be sure that he didn't shut his eyes as tightly as he could and brace for impact as they shot into the tunnel. The train raced past them so close he could feel his cape snapping at it. They were equally close to the solid tunnel wall. Once or twice they nearly ran into the protruding service rails. Behind them, Bruce heard the other motorcycle that had been following closely, crash on the side of the track near the tunnel wall. After what felt like an eternity of reckless driving over bumpy terrane, the train passed them and they were heading back out into the open.

"Wahoo!" cried Dick as they shot safely through the other side of the tunnel like a missile from a launcher.

"Never do that again," Bruce admonished him, "suicide is not acceptable." He slapped Dick upside the head. Not hard, but hard enough to get his point across.

"Quit whining. We made it."

"Barely."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did we leave your stomach back there someplace?" teased Dick. "Shall we go back for it?"

"No. Shut up and drive," Bruce ordered. His voice was devoid of any kind of emotion even as a small satisfied smile threatened to spread from the corners of his lips. Bruce debated telling Dick that he had done well to pull them through this, but left it unsaid. He would not encourage the young man's already reckless nature any further. Bruce feared that, like Jason, it would get him killed. So he said nothing.

What Bruce failed to realize was that Dick was nothing like Jason. Yes, he was reckless sometimes, but he also had a tactical and cunning mind. Dick adapted to his situation, rolled with the punches so to speak, which led to improvisation. It was something he had learned from show business. It was when he improvised that he became reckless sometime, but not nearly as much as people perceived. His joviality upstaged his brilliance, so people repeatedly underestimated him. Enemies and allies alike.

"Next stop Genoa," said Dick.

"Good." Bruce nodded; once.

"Unless you want to stop for burgers."

 _Oh Dick_.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it. If you're so inclined, let me know what you think.**


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